Catch you on the Flip-side
by Casset90
Summary: "I'm not a bad person. I'm just... not a good one either. I'm not sweet, kind-hearted, caring or truthful. And if you want to witness my version of the events, you're going to have to deal with it, because this is my story and I'm going to tell it exactly how I want to." Follow pessimistic Blair as she shows you through her chaotic Sixth year at Hogwarts, 70s style!


Now, before we start: I'm not a bad person. I'm just… not a good one either. I'm not sweet, kind-hearted, caring or truthful. And if you want to witness my version of the events, you're going to have to deal with it. Don't like it? Then leave. Go ahead, see if I care. Still there? Fine then. Just take a seat honey, and shut your trap please. There's no backing out now.

Everything started that damn day I got a sealed letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, delivered by an old barn owl. As you would expect, my parents were really excited and lectured me about safety and working hard and yadee-yadee-ya –let's skip forward to the present, sound good? No? Well to bad, because this is my story and I'm going to tell it exactly how I want to.

Right. Sixth year. Let me see… Yesterday was the usual 'let's hunt for a compartment, find one full of first years, eject them, sleep during the abnormally long train ride (I mean seriously, even Muggle trains are faster than ours), change into robes at the last minute and stuff our face at feast' day. (Lost already? Good. Don't interrupt me again.) So… that means today is the first day of classes. And here I am, walking down to the Great Hall. There better still be bacon.

"Hey Sharron." That's my best friend, the one at the Gryffindor table. With the freckles. Yes her. Now, I know what you must be thinking, 'What's a beauty like her doing with you?' Well, the truth is simple: Sharron didn't always look this stunning. During Vacation, she got her braces removed, discovered Muggle contact-lenses and purchased a huge stock of anti-frizz hair potion. And now… voilà! Her makeover knocked her up a notch on the social ladder. But she still hangs out with me. Because I'm awesome.

"Hey girl. Pass me the toast, will yah?"

I oblige her request as I unmajestically plump myself at her side. Bacon's still there. Better take some before Fatty gets here. Good, that's more than I'll ever eat. Yawning, I ask Sharron:

"What classes do we have this morning?" I never bothered to look. Lazy, I tell you, LAZY.

"Potions and Transfiguration." I grunt in response. Today was going to be especially painful if Slughorn was on the menu. He never really liked me, probably because of that crab-juice incident, back in my Third year. Don't worry, I don't care: the feeling's mutual.

"Over-here ladies!" Sharron carelessly interrupts my Slughorn-fuelled thoughts as she salutes two of the other Gryffindor Sixth year girls in the most obnoxiously loud manner. Now they're coming our way, which means I'm going to have to small talk over breakfast. Ugh. I hate using my brain before 10 a.m.

"How are you two foxy-looking babes doing in this early morning?" the red-haired beauty answers light-heartedly as she installs herself to Sharron's left. Her name's Lily Evans. And that's all I'm going to tell you for now. You'll see why soon enough.

"Helloooo? Coffee? Can you dig?" And that (the pig-like thing just opposite you) is Joyce. Pretty name, right? It doesn't suit her. That's why I've dubbed her Fatty. You wouldn't guess where I found the inspiration.

_Fine_. I'll introduce her better. Listen carefully because I'm only going through this once. Fatty is the dumbest chick you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. You see, she's the type of flighty young spaz that's mind revolves around two subjects and two subjects only: dudes and beauty. As you can imagine, all those successful in these areas receive her immediate admiration, like Lily for example, whereas all those that aren't, like me, well… let's just say they don't receive her attention.

In other words: she's a horrid biological mistake and I don't secretly rejoice at having to share the surface of this planet with her. Or the dorm (she snores). But after five years, you learn to cope and stay out of each other's hair. Most of the time.

"Hey, freak. Are you ignoring me?" Fatty persists with an irritated edge to her usually composed and chatty voice. Obviously, cow. I shoot her one of my expertly-mastered cold glares. The message is clear: go pee in somebody else's flowerpot.

"Joyce, don't be crabby." Lily intervenes airily, breaking us away from our silent cowboy-style showdown. "Besides, Blair's no freak." The angel smiles at me, and I 'smile' back.

"Just an affectionate nick-name between old friends." And she bats her eye-lashes playfully, silently challenging me to deny our oh-so-beautiful amity. Gag me with a spoon, now. Luckily for her, Andrea pops up before I get to flick a speck of bacon in her direction.

"Oh hey everybody. Can you believe McGonagall asked me to give out timetables to all the First years? And it took so L-O-N-G! I swear the Sorting Hat tweaked with their heads and got them all to forget their names!" the Indian girl whines playfully as she too takes a seat by my side. "Anybody got the Prophet?"

"Nope sorry." I answer, pouring myself some coffee. Huh, I did finish the bacon after all. There isn't much cream left. Or sugar. No wonder, Fatty's hogged it all. Wait -what do you mean you want me to describe Andrea too? Is it going to be this way for every person you meet? Yes? You've got to be kidding me. Ok, ok, I'm on it! Give me a second, will you?

So… Andrea's really nice, really friendly. And… really capoti-hot. I like her a lot (as a friend obviously). She's got a good sense of humor and can laugh about herself. Also, uum… she's a little bit of a tomboy, like me. We're both on the Quidditch team, as chasers, and she's better than me but doesn't boast about it. Uuuh… what else do you want to know? She's single, like the rest of us. Uuum… Yeah. That's all I can think of for now. I'll let you know if anything else comes up.

Anyway, it's time to go –I forgot my school stuff back in our room and I need to go to the bathroom, so the time I go up, feel better, get my junk, and make my way to the Dungeons, class will already have started. I chug down what feels like half a gallon of dark coffee and, after 'Check yah later'-ing in the group's general direction, make my way out of the Great Hall. You coming?

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**Ok. Sooo… The introductory chapter. A little boring maybe, but a structure can't stand if its foundations are weak, right? Anyway, leave me a quick 'thumbs up' bellow if you dare ;)**


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